


A Cup of Tea

by ardentmuse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family (Harry Potter) - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Hogwarts, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Quidditch, Tea, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 18:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17750990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentmuse/pseuds/ardentmuse
Summary: A call out in Divinations helps James see that it is time to make a move on his crush.*Reader is Sirius Black's sister*





	A Cup of Tea

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” called the Divinations professor from her spot in the front of the classroom, “Care to share with the class your reading?”

James froze over his cup and saucer. This class was his least favorite, mostly for how often he was called on completely out of the blue, and he really didn’t feel like he knew what he was doing. His tea cup was empty, swirled and turned over on the saucer, waiting to be read. With a nod from the professor, he lifted it up and studied intently

“Now remember, students, tea leaf reading is a highly personal art. James here will see something different in his own cup then what I would if I were to look myself. So James, tell us, what do you see?”

James took a deep breath and gazed, ignoring the constant fidgeting of Sirius beside him. The dregs were everywhere, forming clumps and shapes in all directions, but one particular clump caught his eyes.

“I see something with wings… maybe a bird?” James began, “No, it can’t be a bird. It has a human face. A harpy?”

“Does it scare you?” the professor asked.

“No,” James faltered “I think it’s friendly.”

“Ah, an angel then.”

“Yeah,” James said almost to himself, completely lost in his cup.

“Now, tell us, Mr. Potter. Where on the cup is the angel?”

“She’s close to the rim, like she’s flying up from the bottom.”

“Good, good,” the Professor said as she took notes on the board of James’s cup. “An angel is the sign of true love, and close to the edge means that true love is just around the corner. Anything else?”

“I see a line, really straight, coming up from the bottom towards the angel. And on the other side I see a club, like a wooden bat, and something that looks like a letter.”

“And what is the letter?” She called from the chalkboard as she wrote, flicking her head over her shoulder to look at the table of Marauders.

“It’s a— It’s a—“ James knew what it was. He felt his heart racing at the sight of it. His mouth wanted to say the word he knew it represented, so lovely and fresh on his tongue. A beautiful name, simple and elegant like the woman who held it. One he hoped some day she’d leave behind for “Potter.” 

Sirius leaned over to stare into James’s cup and take a look at the shapes himself.

“It’s an ‘E,’ Professor,” Sirius screamed out, elbowing James who was still in his stupor. James blinked a few times, processing what Sirius had just done. Peter was laughing beside him. Lily, at the table beside, blushed and turned away. And Sirius looked insanely proud of himself.

“So an ‘E,’ then,” the Professor continued at the front of the classroom. With all the notes from James’s cup, she turned once again to the class. “A journey, the line. Mr. Potter has been making active strides in pursuing this love. And the club is a love of sport, not surprising for our Gryffindor quidditch captain. And letters represent people.”

“So you’re saying, teach,” Sirius began with a wicked smile, “That James is on a love journey towards someone whose name starts with an ‘E’?”

“Well, yes. But only Mr. Potter would know for sure.”

“You hear that, Evans,” Sirius called to the other table, patting James on the shoulder and laughing. The entire class laughed, too.

But James knew the prediction was true, with one caveat. It wasn’t an E in his cup. It was a B.

“Baby Black,” James called when he saw you waiting for him on the quidditch pitch. When he turned around in your workout clothes and smiled at him, he thought he heart might stop. You were beautiful, already a little sweaty from the few sprints he knew you ran while you waited for him, and so, so joyful.

Dinner had finished an hour or so ago and he took more time getting ready than he thought he would, dodging questions and teases from his friends. But he was willing to endure it given how much he hoped the predictions were right. His journey in pursuit you was almost over, if his cup was to be believed. Love was on the horizon, love with you, if only he could build up the courage to make a move.

“Hiya, James,” you shouted as you took bounded steps towards him, broom in hand. “I’m ready for today’s lesson, dearest tutor.”

You had approached James a few months ago about help training for your tryouts next year. Your keeper was graduating and who better to help you practice than the best chaser you knew. James tried his hardest not to let that go to his head when he said yes, knowing he’d probably say yes to any request you made, especially after last summer when you and Sirius moved in with his folks. He missed talking with you every breakfast, spending hours in the family room reading and joking, and the hugs you would give him every night, thanking him for his hospitality.

He swallowed and regained his focus. He hopped onto his broom with the quaffle he carried and beckoned you to join him in the sky. Once you were hovering high in the air, he explained to you today’s drill. He finally believe you to be ready to block against his best moves.

For the next few hours, as the sun slowly began to set over the lake, James tried his best to get passed you. You blocked most but not all, thought your movements were fluid and your balance impeccable.

“That was impressive!” he called when you managed to dive with no hands on the broom and recover rather quickly.

“I’ve been practicing,” you managed between breaths, “Wanted to make you proud,” you added before tossing the quaffle back his way. He thought he saw you bite at your bottom lip when you did so. He wanted to tell you how pretty it looked when you did but he didn’t know quite how.

The sun was almost down now, only time for one more good run. Resetting, he watched your movements, the way you lightly swayed from side to side, your hands clasped tightly on the edge of your broom. You seemed to be favoring your right side due to the wind and so James sped forward, right first. You did exactly as he imagined and moved in turn, quick to reposition to not leave your right open. But once momentum was against you, James pivoted and threw, highest corner of the left hoop.

You caught on right away and were able to redirect but the angle was too strong. You had to maneuver your broom perpendicular from the ground and when you leaned forward to swat at the ball, you fell backwards and began to plummet fast towards the ground with your broom doing the same several feet out of your reach.

Immediately James course-corrected and dove, determined to catch you. You were doing your best to fish your wand out of your pants but it was proving rather difficult. You had about ten feet left by the time you managed it, but James was quicker. He flattened his trajectory and scooped you into his arms. The additional weight caused his broom to bounce, sending you both much more slowly towards the ground.

You landed with a gentle thud on the soft earth. James still had his arms tight around your torso and, despite the fall, you were still securely in his lap.

You reached up to fix his lopsided glasses. He watched you as he caught his breath. He waited for his heart rate to slow but it never did. He had you in his arms, your hands on his face, your chest pressed firmly to his. To say his wasn’t his nightly fantasy would be quite the lie.

“A fallen angel,” he mused under his breath.

“What?” you asked as you repositioned yourself. James took particular note of how you did nothing to get out of his lap.

“Nothing,” he said, before running his hands up your arms, “Are you okay?”

“You caught me,” you said, smiling so softly the boy thought he was going to melt.

“I’ll always catch you. Any time you fall, I’ll be here.” James found himself leaning forward as your hands held onto his jaw, wanting to taste that beautiful smile that was playing on your lips, needing to know if you were feeling this too.

“But what if you’re the reason I’m falling? What then?”

James studied your face, watched as your skin heated and your gaze averted. Your fingers stilled on his face and he just knew that this was the moment he had seen in the leaves.

“You’ve fallen for me?” he asked as he held you secure to him by the hips.

“Literally and figuratively so it would seem.” You glanced at him shyly, but when you saw the giant smile he had, you let out a huge sigh.

“You feel the sa—“ you started but were unable to finish. James’s lips were against yours, his mouth fighting between smiling and kissing. His kiss itself was playful and light but his hands were anything but. He desperately held you to him, caressing your back as he pulled you even deeper into his embrace. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and chuckled.

“Will you go out with me? Please, angel?”

“Yes,” you said before leaning forward and kissing him again. James fell backwards into the grass, pulling you beside him. His hand found your hip once more to pull you flush when you heard a cackling from the stands.

“Bloody hell, James. My sister? Really?” Sirius called in mock disgust.

“Yes, your sister,” James screamed his way before returning his attention back to you, kissing you with the kind of passion he had always dreamed of and paying no mind of the group of boys staring on.

The next week in Divinations, he had no problem admitting to the “B”s he saw in his cup or the doves and harps and lovers that consistently appeared to him on the bottom.

And even after he left school, he watched his dregs for years, waiting for the time when that B became a P so he could propose to you over a cup of tea.


End file.
